>A golden streak of autumn sunlight wakes you up.
>After stretching and taking a contented breath, you walk down to Ginger's kitchen.
>The faint scent of curry lingers in the air when you enter.
>On the counter sits a note from your host.
>”Thanks for the morning shift, jerk. I'll have the cooks save some prep for you. -Ginger”
>You laugh to yourself and pull some eggs from the fridge.
>One gets cracked into a bowl, while the other two are left alone for the time being.
>A scoop of coffee grounds into the machine and you leave your morning pick-me-up to brew while you continue making breakfast.
>After scrubbing a couple potatoes, you take Ginger's grater and shred them into the egg bowl.
>You mix the potatoes and egg together and add some leftover diced onion from last night.
>A large frying pan on the stove with some oil is your chosen tool now. You let the oil heat before working the potatoes into patties and dropping them in.
>Once browned, you flip the patties and look through the fridge for a container of sour cream.
>The potato pancakes sizzle loudly as you slide the spatula under them and set the golden morsels on some paper towels to drain.
>You crack the two eggs into the pan now, watching contentedly as they rapidly turn white and crackle in the hot oil.
>A minute later you take the eggs from the pan and move them to a plate with the potato pancakes.
>The dish is finished with a small dollop of sour cream on each pancake, and you go to the table as your coffee finishes brewing.
>You're about to take the first bite when there comes a rapid rapping at the front door.
1/
 
>With an annoyed groan you put the fork down and go to answer the morning caller.
>You swing the door open, catching a Guard mid-knock. He looks at you with his hoof raised for a moment before clearing his throat.
What can I do for you?
>”We'd like to talk to you about the fire at your home. Do you have a minute Anonymous?” the Guard says.
>You perk up at the mention of the fire.
Yes, of course. Come in.
>The stallion follows you inside. You lead him to the kitchen.
I just got a pot of coffee on. You two want any?
>”No, thank you.”
Alright. Hope you don't mind if I eat and listen.
>You return to your seat at the table with a mug of coffee in your hand.
So why the visit? Has something new happened? I thought the investigation ruled the fire an accident?
>There's a long pause. You take a gulp of coffee to alleviate the knot forming in your stomach.
>”We had sent some of the debris up to Canterlot to be looked at by specialists.”
Why?
>”Call it a hunch. Anyway, the results came back to us this morning.”
>The stallion places his hooves together on the table and leans forward.
>”There was kerosene found by the unicorn examining the debris we sent up.”
What are you saying?
>He lowers his voice morosely.
“I'm saying somep0ny set that fire intentionally, Anonymous. Now I don't want to cause undue stress, but do you think it may be related to the incident at your place of employment yesterday?”
>You rub your forehead and look at the ceiling.
I sure hope not.
2/
 
>”Well, we're looking into it. Keep this as under-wraps as possible, though, will you? Last thing this investigation needs is a panic situation or the press getting involved. We'll keep you in the loop. Just stay vigilant. If somep0ny has it out for you, we'll find them.”
Thanks. Is there anything else I should know?
>”No, that's about it. Just wanted you to be informed. I'll be going.”
>The stallion rises from his seat and starts toward the door.
>As he goes, you're struck by a thought.
Oh! Before you go!
>”Yes?” he asks, turning slightly.
I may not be staying here much longer. If you need to reach me after tomorrow, I'll most likely be staying at Madam Mayor's house down the way.
>The Guard raises an eyebrow questioningly.
>”Alright. Thanks for telling me.”
>You find yourself alone again at the table, your good mood somewhat tempered.
3/
 
>With breakfast finished, you get up and notice the weight in your chest has remained.
>The prospect of telling Em about the arson doesn't help things. You clean up the kitchen and walk out into the cool fall air.
>On your way through the market on Mane Street, you come to the flower stall. You're about to pass it by when Rose pops up from behind the counter, a bushel of violet aster in her mouth.
>She makes some inarticulate vocalization when she sees you before dropping the flowers into a vase on the counter and waving you over.
>”Anon! Good morning!” she says cheerily. You catch something in her tone that tells you she's sitting on some news.
Rose. Taking the morning at the stall, I see. Did Daisy mention anything about our arrangement yesterday? She said she needed to consult you.
>The florist waves a hoof at you.
>”Oh, she may have said something. We can talk business later,” she deflects.
>There's a beat in which Rose look at you, the corners of her mouth slowly curling upwards.
>You rub your forehead, irritated.
Damnit, you KNOW, don't you?
>The giggling she dissolves into is answer enough for you.
>”I”m just happy for you two!” she almost sings. “Oh, don't make that face. You always make that face at good news and I never understand why. This is such a good thing! Keeping it a secret has been such a chore!”
I bet it's just been killing you.
>”You know, I really thought you'd be happier about all this, Anon.”
>You shrug silently.
>Rose narrows her eyes at you and motions for you to come closer.
>”There's something else. Talk to me.”
It's not--
>”Don't tell me it isn't my business. I make it my business.”
4/
 
>”Look, I consider you a friend. Not an extremely close one, mind you, but a friend. And Em? Don't even get me started. There's something else you're not telling me. What is it?”
Why are you so keen to know everything going on with me?
>”Because I can help.”
You're desperate for problems to solve.
>”And you're desperate for ones to keep. She already knows about the fire, Anon.”
>You search for some kind of retort, but find none.
>”What, surprised? She's the Mayor! Celestia, she was practically the first to know when those results came back in.”
When was that?
>”Early this morning. It was on her desk when I went to see her at Town Hall.”
Did she say anything?
>”Nothing she won't tell you herself. Actually, she's going to be at the Ibex Dim Sum place at eleven thirty. She wanted me to pass that along to you since she didn't get to make plans last night.”
>Rose starts adjusting the flower arrangement on the counter. “I heard the debris at your house has been cleaned up, though. They should be able to start rebuilding it in the next few days.”
Yeah, I had a contractor look at the site yesterday afternoon. Lucky the insurance covers fire.
>”Nasty business, isn't it?”
Always is.
>”You've dealt with this before?”
Of course. I've been all over. There's always ponies willing to set aside the love and harmony to get a jab at the monkey. Dealt with names, newspaper articles, graffiti on my apartments, you name it. Never had my house burned down, though. That's a first.
>”I understand.” She lets her tone soften before pulling back and putting on her coy face once more. “Now run along. I'm sure you have a lot to do today, Anonymous.”
5/
 
>She waves you off with a playful grin on her face and goes back to working on her flowers.
Right. I'll talk to you later.
>”Yes, you will. Take care, Chef.”
>You leave the florist's stand, put strangely at ease by the mare's words.
>First on your agenda now is Rarity.
>After a short walk, you arrive and arrange your thoughts.
>Before you knock, however, the door lets off a loud bang and creaks ajar.
>An orange filly tumbles over as you push the door open. She looks up and brushes her purple mane off her face.
>”Uh...hi,” she says. A pair of fillies trot over to meet her. You recognize Applejack's little sister and Sweetie Belle.
Good morning.
>You take a knee and help the filly up.
Are you alright? I don't think we've met. I'm Anonymous.
>”She's Scootaloo. Trah'd ta flah up out th' window!” Apple Bloom interrupts.
>”Shut up! I almost had it!” Scootaloo shoots back.
>”What do you want?” Sweetie Belle asks you, ignoring her friends.
Is Rarity home?
>The three fillies look at each other before Sweetie Belle runs off into the other room.
>”Is it true you have fingers on your feet?” Scootaloo asks, poking a hoof at your shoe.
>You flex your toes, making the fronts of your shoes pulsate. Scootaloo watches intently.
>”Neat!” she exclaims. Apple Bloom feigns apathy while still stealing the occasional glance. “Can you do other stuff?”
>”Oh, plenty,” Rarity answers for you. “Why don't you girls play outside for a while?” She looks around the shop at various knocked-over vases and chairs.
>The fillies scurry out of the boutique. Rarity closes the door behind them and lets out a sigh of relief.
Fillysitting?
>”I don't understand how they can be such a hooffull,” she complains.
6/
 
>”Now, what brings you around here?”
News, mostly. And I haven't seen much of you recently. Thought it'd be good to catch up.
>”Well, I certainly appreciate the gesture.” Rarity's tone carries a lingering hint of passive aggressive annoyance. “It has been a while, hasn't it? I can scarcely recall the last time we had a real chat...”
Look, I'm sorry about everything that's happened. It's been unfair to you, I know.
>”You've said that before,” she answers, examining one of her perfectly-maintained hooves. “Does it mean you've seen the error of your ways? Really? Last I checked, Anonymous, you were still gallivanting around in secret with that little paramour of yours.”
>You scratch the back of your head uncomfortably.
About that...It's er, not so secret...anymore.
>”What?”
We decided to stop. Hiding it, that is. You were right. It's stupid to be leading everyone on like that. Making up excuses, lies, disguises. You were right about all of it.
>”So why are you telling me?”
Because you have a right to know, as a friend.
>Rarity huffs. “Well, it's good to see you're acting your age for once. I'm glad for you. I'm sure she and you will be very happy.”
Thanks. How've you been? Did that work for Fleur go alright?
>”Oh, the commission? It went splendidly, thank you for asking...” Rarity's mood shifts abruptly as the change of topic. Her voice is almost glittering as she details the process of making Fleur's dresses.
>”...was a simply wonderful experience, getting to work with such a talented fashion pony like her! A real socialite, too! Such poise and grace! I've never gotten to work with an actual model before!” she gushes.
Safe assuming you made some connections up in Canterlot?
>Rarity pauses slightly. “Yes, yes of course.”
7/
 
>The clock in the other room rings ten o'clock.
>”Oh! Look at that. Ten already?” Rarity starts to hurry about the room. “I'd love to keep chatting, but I have to work on the winter line before show season and those three fillies have me behind! Thanks for stopping by! We'll have to get together and really catch up sometime!”
>You nod as the unicorn darts to and fro between her sketch table and the rolls of fabric lining her workshop walls.
>Scootaloo and her friends gallop around the front yard when you step outside. Sweetie Belle stops momentarily to watch you go, but quickly returns to her game of tag when you reach the street.
8/
 
 
>After a couple of minutes walking, you open the door to Sugar Cube Corner.
>Pinkie stands at the counter with a peculiarly vacant expression. She seems to be staring off into space.
>Thinking of it, this is the first time you've seen the mare really standing still since you've met her.
>She doesn't notice your entrance until you're directly across the counter from her, waving your hand in front of her face.
Hello? Pinkie? Everything okay? You home?
>”Huh? Oh! Hi Anon,” she replies absently. “Get you something?”
>Her gaze never quite meets your eyes. You hear a tapping sound behind the counter and knot your brow.
Are you doing alright, Pinkie? You don't seem all there today.
>You lean over the counter to see her hind leg rapidly bouncing up and down against the floorboards.
>Still confused, you stand back as Pinkie mechanically checks the coffee machines. When she walks off, you see the vase behind her full of lilacs.
>You feel yourself smile when she returns.
>”What's that look for?” Pinkie asks.
Nothing.
>”...Okay. Can I get you anything?”
No, I just wanted to stop in and tell you that Em and I aren't covering up our er, thing, anymore.
>Pinkie looks at you blankly.
>”Oh. Good.” She puts on a smile for you. “I'm really glad for you.”
Are you sure there's nothing wrong?
>”Yep! Just...preoccupied.”
Oh? What with?
>”Er...”
Wouldn't have something to do with those flowers, would it?
>Pinkie gives a blush as her answer. You wonder if Fleur is this smitten.
When's she coming?
>The mare jumps slightly.
>”Wh-what gives you that idea?”
>You raise an eyebrow at her.
Come on.
>Pinkie squirms.
> “Tomorrow...” she sighs. “She wanted to surprise you.”
9/
 
>You laugh out loud.
That sounds like Fleur. You nervous?
>”A little...”
>Pinkie fiddles with some unseen speck on the counter.
>”Is it weird, Anon?” she asks, suddenly sounding more serious.
Is what weird?
>”...This. I mean, you and her...you used to be...you know...right?”
You mean together? Her and I? Yeah. For a while. But we're not anymore.
>”It still feels weird.”
It isn't weird. She's free to do whatever she wants, and you seem like you'll keep her on her toes.
>You reach over the counter and ruffle the mare's mane.
You've got my blessing, for what it's worth, and look at it this way: if you've ever got a problem, you know who to go to for advi--
>You stop mid-sentence, realizing just who you sound like. You mutter under your breath.
Dammit, what have you done to me?
>”What's that?”
Nothing. You have plans, you two?
>Pinkie goes quiet once more. You grin.
Don't worry about it. I'll let you have her to yourself mostly. How long is she staying in town?
>”A few days.”
Great. Thanks for the heads up, Pinkie.
>”No problem...”
>You turn to go, but remember something and turn back.
Oh, and a bit of advice?
>”Y-yeah?”
She likes pistachios in her baklava.
>The pink pony lets a dawning smile play over her face as you leave the bakery.
10/
 
>You meet Em outside the Dim Sum restaurant just before eleven thirty.
>She's wearing a somewhat muted smile and looks hesitant to walk out to meet you.
Hi, Em. You weren't waiting long, were you?
>”Only a couple minutes,” Em says.
Good, good. I got held up at Fluttershy's. You know she does bear chiropractics?
>”Yes,” she replies. “We had to make up a new kind of license for her at the office.”
You say 'we.' You mean your interns had to.
>”Obviously,” she says, her smile brightening. The two of you head into the restaurant side by side.
Two for lunch, dim sum service.
>The hostess nods courteously.
>”Right this way.”
>Em follows you through the restaurant. The place's décor is heavy on the red and gold, you notice. There's a heavy scent of frying oil in the air that permeates the entire dining room. Ponies in silk vests push carts loaded with steaming dumplings, fried vegetables, and platters of rice.
>You pull out the chair for Em before taking your own seat and ordering drinks.
>”So, how was dinner with Ginger?” she asks once you've settled in.
>She glances at an oncoming cart while you narrow your eyes at her.
Is that jealousy I hear, Em? That's refreshing.
>”It could be.”
Well, it's unfounded. She's not nearly as sharp as you. Also she smacks when she eats.
>Em leans in.
>”Oh Celestia, I'm glad you said something. It's all I could hear the night I stayed there.”
>You both stifle laughter as the first cart comes around.
>”Ooh! Onion rangoons!” Em nearly squeals.
You know those are just fried bags of cream cheese, right?
>She looks at you with one already half-stuffed into her mouth.
>”Mmhmmph?”
Nevermind.
11/
 
>You take a plate of wontons from the very confused-looking mare at the cart as Em chews.
So dignified...
>Em swallows and wipes her mouth daintily.
>”Shush. Now, are you going to talk to me about the fire?” she returns.
>You're taken aback at her quick shift.
Er, I--
>”I know it must be hard hearing that kind of thing. Celestia knows I almost fainted when the Guard told me that it was arson!” She brings her voice down to a whisper as she speaks.
It was, but I guess I'd had a feeling all along about it. Not to mention everyone who kept saying it was related to what happened at the restaurant.
>”I never thought ponies in my town could be so hurtful.” Em looks at her plate, a downtrodden frown on her face.
>You reach over and raise her chin with your fingers.
Now that's just depressing. Why don't we change the subject? The new Marechelin Guide is coming out. One of the managers told me they're coming to Ponyville this year.
>Em's jaw all but hits the table.
>”What?!” she cries. You motion for her to lower her voice. She goes back to a whisper.
>”Are you serious? The Marechelin Guide? THE Marechelin Guide? When? How?”
I don't know any more than I told you. Just thought it'd be nice to see your reaction. You could have a Marechelin-ranked restaurant in your town by year's end.
>”Or a Marechelin-ranked Chef in my bed.” She says, kicking you under the table.
>You nod silently as another cart comes to the table.
12/
 
>You look over the cart, which is piled high with plates of dumplings and rolls.
Egg roll?
>Em nods as she devours another rangoon. The mare with the cart sets a plate of golden-brown egg rolls down and wheels the cart away
>”I heard from Rose that you're setting up a deal with Daisy?”
Yeah, apparently she grows sage and a bunch of other herbs. It looks like it's higher quality than what we get from the farm up north so I figured I'd give her a shot.
>”Well, Rose was certainly thrilled. That flower shop is like her baby.”
She didn't let on when I ran into her this morning.
>”She never lets on about things like that,” Em says flatly, lifting up her plate of egg rolls. “Do you want one of these?”
I'll wait for the chow mein.
>Several more carts pass by before the one bearing your noodles arrives.
>Conversation hits a lull as you and Em eat.
>Every so often you exchange glances or look around at the dining room, but you decide that nothing really needs to be said and instead choose to bask in the silent company.
>After about five minutes, though, Em wipes her mouth and knots her brow.
>”Are you going to keep staying with Ginger until your house is rebuilt?” she asks hesitantly.
>You slurp a mouthful of noodles before replying.
I was actually going to ask you about that. I mean, the only reason I didn't bring it up before was that we were keeping this thing between us a secret, so--
>”I understand,” she interrupts. Em looks about the room. You catch a bit of discomfort in her expression.
Still feel weird? Being out together?
>”Just a bit...”
Good. I'm not the only one, then.
13/
 
>You take a bite of chow mein to fill the gap in conversation.
But it's not like this is the first time we've been out together. Just the first time we've done it without any pretenses.
>”Still, I can't help worrying. The ponies in the office are sure to take issue with my seeing you. Image and all that, you know.”
Well then let them take issue. It's not like we didn't see that coming, anyway.
>”It's more complicated than that. This whole thing is one big campaign issue waiting to be exploited, Anon. I have to watch how I handle it...” She takes a sip of tea. “And how you do. No offense, but you're not exactly as sharp with the body politic as you are with food.”
>You throw your hands up, smiling.
You've got me there. Never was much of a schemer.
>”It's not about scheming. It's about public perception.”
I get it. I get it. I'll be good.
>Em sighs and watches the steam rise from a cart carrying a stack of warm desserts.
So, back to what we were talking about before...
>”You're welcome to come by whenever you get out of work. I'll make sure everything's ready after I finish up at the office.”
Thanks...honey.
>The tan mare turns beet red. You grin triumphantly.
>”Would you like anything else?” one of the cart-mares interrupts, clearly forcing a smile.
>”...Just the check, thanks.” Em does her best to hide her flushed cheeks.
>The cart-mare lets slip a flash of distaste as she looks at the table slip and writes up the total.
>You're not sure if Em notices or if she simply ignores it, but you say nothing as you put your bits on the table and get up with her.
14/
 
>On your way towards the door, you let your arm fall around Em's neck and feel a certain satisfaction when she pushes up against you in response.
>Out on the street, you lean down to eye level with her.
I'll head off, then. They're going to be missing me at the restaurant if I don't get there soon.
>”Alright. Have a good day at work,” she replies.
>You crane your neck forward and catch Em's cheek with a kiss.
>Before she can react, you get up and ruffle her mane.
See you later, Madam Mayor.
15/
 
>A few minutes later.
>You catch Ginger coming out of the back door of the restaurant, pulling the bandana off her head.
>”Anon! You're just in time. Whooves was looking for you. He got in like ten minutes ago,” she says.
Okay, thanks for telling me. You have a minute?
>Ginger cocks an eyebrow at you.
>”I er, yeah? Yeah, what's up?”
>You rub your forehead nervously.
Okay, how do I put this?
>”I don't have a lot of time to spare today, Anon. Just tell me what you're gonna tell me.”
Right, right. Okay. I er- well, you know when y--
>You steel yourself and decide to just blurt it out.
Screw it. I'm seeing the Mayor.
>”For what?”
>You find yourself at a loss.
For wh-- what? No, I'm with her. We're together. Been for a while, just didn't tell anyp0ny until now.
>A look of dawning comprehension rises on Ginger's face.
>Then she slaps you.
>”What!? Does Joy know? How could you do that to such a nice mare!? I can't believe this! And she was just here, too! Of all th--”
>You catch Ginger as she goes to start punching you, her face red with anger.
Ging, calm down for a second and let me explain?
>”Explain what? How you've been cheating on your marefriend for 'a while?' Excuse me for not wanting to hear your excuses! Joy must be--”
Joy is the Mayor, Ginger! Or the Mayor is Joy, or something. Joy's a character! We made her up for the Nightmare Night party.
>”What?”
Yeah.
>Ginger knots her brow and takes a few steps back.
>”For real?” she says disbelievingly.
16/
 
For real. We wanted to keep our thing under wraps and we came up with Joy so we could go out together without anyp0ny catching on. Just our luck my house got burned down that night, or Joy would've disappeared without a problem.
>”I'll say. Celestia, I really thought you were cheating, Anon. The Mayor, though?”
Yep. For a few months now. Sorry for not telling you about it, but we only just decided to come out with it, you know?
>Ginger mulls it over for a minute.
>”I guess so,” she says. “I don't like that you lied to me, though.”
I can live with that.
>”So I guess this means you won't be staying at my place anymore?”
Yeah, I'm going to be at her house until mine's rebuilt.
>The orange mare paws at the ground with a look of disappointment.
>”Alright...”
And hey, look at it like this: now you don't have to wait for Joy to come back to town. She was only the costume. Em's just her with a grey mane and glasses.
>Your last comment seems to brighten Ginger's spirits.
>”Okay well, I'm still mad about the lying, but I guess it's not so bad. Bring it in, come on.” She rears up and opens her forelegs. You return her hug before letting her go on her way.
>”I'll see you tomorrow, then.”
Alright. And thanks.
>”For what?”
Everything. I'm glad I can count on you.
>”No problem. Now get in there, Chef. Whooves is waiting on you.”
17/
 
>You head into the restaurant and slip into your jacket amidst the noise of the kitchen.
>As you walk to your office, Whooves intercepts you.
>”Anon, get over here,” he says tersely.
Hello to you too, Whooves. What's with the tone?
>The stallion holds something up in your face.
>”Buddy of mine down the print house got me an early draft of tomorrow's gossip rag. Guess who made cover?”
>You take the tabloid from Whooves and scan the front page with a sense of dawning dread.
>Superimposed on the picture of you and Em at the restaurant in Fillydelphia is the headline.
>”Mayor Mare's Monkey Mate: Sordid Details of Her Affair with Anonymous, Ponyville's Ape-Chef!”
Well shit.
>”Yep. Looks like the cat's out of the bag. Knew that mare you brought to the party looked familiar. Couldn't quite place it. Anyway, thought you should know. Boss'll probably want a word about it tomorrow.”
Fantastic. So much for easing into the public eye with this.
>Whooves shrugs.
>”Hey, could be worse,” he says, sounding more genial now, “at least you're in with the Mayor. I belive I already made my opinion on her clear?” He punctuates his sentence with a wink and a grin.
Silver linings, right?
>”Exactly. Now, you want to get service started or should I?”
I'll take dinner.
>You drop the tabloid into your desk drawer and flop into your chair.
>Something tells you it's going to be a long shift.
End